White Blood
by thesilencewillnotlast
Summary: My eyes widen at the sight and I am suddenly just feet away from him, hand outstretched as if I were trying to help someone who was drowning, because in a sense, Malfoy is drowning. And it's in something that seems to be much worse than water. / DMHG - Dramione
1. Chapter 1

"The loneliest moment in someone's life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly." ~ F. Scott Fitzgerald

* * *

It was strange, the way my eyes seemed to automatically flick towards him as he entered the Great Hall. The confident superiority that always envelops him has disappeared and the swagger he usually walks with has been erased as the year goes on.

Draco Malfoy is not who he once was.

He freezes, his quick stride coming to a stop when he sees me for some reason, but he does not move his eyes from mine. The noise of the Great Hall fades into the background and I cannot help but think that there is something in him, swirling in his eyes, resting on his shoulders that is making the Malfoy I hate older, wearier than anyone our age should feel.

I ignore the part of me that tells me that it is the same look Harry wears when he thinks no one can see him, choosing to let my eyes wander over Malfoy, taking note of how his skin, paler than ever before, is a startling contrast to his now-dull grey eyes and the darkness that rests underneath them. He looks ill and tired and lonely, and some traitorous part of me wants to help him and so I ignore that too. Glancing around, I tug some of my curls from my face before glaring back at Malfoy.

.

He is still staring at me with that terrified look on his face and my mind has just barely registered the fact that no one has even glanced our way when Malfoy is turning around, stumbling slightly on the stone floor before he tears his eyes from my own, releasing me from his trapped gaze before walking away at a panicked pace that appears to be becoming faster.

I vaguely hear myself mumble a quiet excuse to Harry and Ron through the pounding in my ears, already after him, and I pretend I don't see the curious looks sent after me as I hurry from the Great Hall.

"Probably going to the library like always." I can hear Ron say faintly as I rush after Malfoy. I suddenly regret not asking someone else to come before I realise that Malfoy wasn't carrying a wand and I am.

My Mary Jane's are quietly tapping against the floor as I hurry down the corridors, Malfoy just at the edge of my vision. Darting past a group of Ravenclaws, I mutter an apology when I bump into one of them and race past to find the lone figure hurrying down the empty hall, watching as he jerks at the knot of his green tie as if it is trying to choke him, his movements sudden and hurried. He turns a corner and I almost gasp, instead letting out some strange noise from deep in my throat as he lurches unsteadily, as if he is drunk before he enters the boy's lavatory.

I do not know why I feel concerned for Malfoy's well-being. He's never been concerned about mine. In fact, he's made me feel like I am useless and I shall never belong in a world where people judge your magical ability based on your parents, not on how well you can cast a spell or make a potion. Malfoy's made me feel like I am not wanted and that I am not intelligent.

But then again, I am not called the brightest witch of our year for no reason. I have the highest marks in all my classes and I have proven, over and over, that I do belong. So why can't I be the bigger person and help him though he's never done anything good for me before?

I take in a deep breath, ending the rant happening inside my head, before cautiously walking in, my wand held tightly by my side, my book bag lying forgotten on the ground behind me.

And I freeze as I watch him stagger forward, his hair ruffled and his tie hanging haphazardly from his neck. He scrabbles with the tap frantically, his breaths shuddering with every intake. The fist not holding my wand unravels and I have the strange urge to run my fingers through his hair and calm him but I resist, clenching my hand so hard that my fingernails leave half-moons where they have dug into the soft skin of my palm.

Malfoy splashes his face with the water streaming from the tap, hands gripping the marble basin so tightly that even from where I stand, tucked away from sight, I can see the way the skin across his knuckles tightens and turns tears off his sweater vest as if it is too warm even though the bathroom is as cold as ice. He is hyperventilating, strangled, heart-wrenching noises coming from him, much like a trapped animal would make, and for a second, Draco Malfoy is nothing more than than a hurt animal in pain to me.

I can physically feel my body lurch forward to help him at the thought, but he doesn't notice, sinking to the ground and then trying to get up as soon as he hits it, as if his body is trying to do what his mind is telling him, but he is thinking to fast to act on it. His fingers have threaded into his blond hair and pull on messy strands of hair as if they were a lifeline before reaching out again and grabbing the basin. Malfoy stares at his crazed reflection, chest heaving but he doesn't seem to notice me though I am now in his sight, instead blinking furiously at the broken mirror.

He raises his face to the ceiling and smiles helplessly before it disappears from his face and then Malfoy is crying, sucking in air desperately. My eyes widen at the sight, one I never even imagined I would see and I am suddenly just feet away from him, hand outstretched as if I were trying to help someone who was drowning, because in a sense, Malfoy is drowning in something that seems to be much worse than water.

His entire body shudders as he presses a fist against his mouth in an attempt to stifle his cries but he seems to give up, pressing his hand back against the marble basin. I am still where I stand, arms wrapped around myself and I can't help but feel as if I want to cry too because something has broken him and Malfoy is the one constant I have had since the first year of Hogwarts to keep me grounded- a cold, cruel, hurtful constant, but a constant nonetheless. Something I could rely on being the same in my ever changing world. And now I don't have even that.

He is whispering something and I step forward to hear him better.

" _No, please, I can't do it, I can't, I can't. I have to but I can't, don't hurt them, I can't,_ _**please**_ _."_

Draco Malfoy is pleading and I clench my jaw tightly because it so very much makes me want to make everything that is making him feel this way stop, because even though the things he has said to me in the past feel like knives, they have never done anything to make me feel as he looks right now.

I step forward, moving closer before my courage leaves me, and lay a hand against his shoulder. His reaction is immediate.

He whirls around and presses me against the wall of the bathroom, and I can feel the cold leach from the wall through the thin, white button -down I am wearing to my back and I shiver slightly. He doesn't say anything just stares at me with wild eyes and I strangely feel as though I am in no danger and I relax, letting my wand fall to the ground. For a split second, his eyes dart to the only way of escaping and my wand before they flit back to me and slowly, as if not to scare him, I press my hands against the hard muscle of his chest and push him from me. He stumbles back and I frown, for I know that he is strong enough to pin me back against the wall but he doesn't.

"Malfoy. Malfoy," I take in a breath when he raises his eyes to meet mine, his panting starting to slow to a normal pace,"Are you alright?"

He gapes at me, almost incredulously, before looking away, feet edging ever closer to the door.

" I'm wonderful. Just _bloody_ brilliant, _Mudblood_. You can go now, run along and tell Potter and the Weasel all about how you found me." He spits out the words with a snarl before laughing bitterly and clenching his jaw. Raising my hands in front of me as if to surrender, I suddenly think of Dumbledore.

"I won't tell, Malfoy. I won't say a word. It might not mean much to you, but I give you my word that I won't say anything. Just- just tell me if you need help. Or Dumbledore, I swear he will help you if you need it." I force my words out, and they sound shaky but they are clear and I know he can hear them when I see his tear-stained cheeks go up as he smiles at me sarcastically. He moves further back and towards the door, still shuddering from the breakdown he just went through.

"That daft old twit cannot help me, and you can't eithe- _no_ , wait, you _can_ help me! You want to know how, Granger?" he replies, his voice filled with sarcasm and mock-excitement.

I have a feeling that I will regret it, but I nod slowly, narrowing my eyes when he sneers.

" _By leaving me the_ _ **hell**_ _alone._ " His voice escalates and I open my mouth to say something in response but he is gone, his sweater vest lying forgotten on the floor and the tap still running.

I pick up his sweater and stride after him, as if it would be a good excuse to stop him because something in me wants to help Malfoy even though he doesn't deserve any help at all, but he is gone and I am left standing in the corridor alone with my wand and book bag lying on the ground, holding Malfoy's sweater.

* * *

 **AN: I've had some people ask about why I'm not updating AWMOOS, but my Doc Manager won't let me post new chapters. I even tried it on my other fanfic, Cherry Wine, but that didn't seem to work either. Sorry about the wait! Has anyone else had this happen to them or does the world just hate me in particular ;) ? Here's to hoping that I can at least be able to update this fanfic.**

 **Thanks for reading and/or reviewing!**

 **Love, Annemarie**


	2. Chapter 2

But I missed you more than I thought I would

And I'll use you as a warning sign

That if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind

And I found love where it wasn't supposed to be

Right in front of me.

I Found - Amber Run

* * *

I heave a sigh when Harry turns away from the conversation Ron and Lavender are having with a slightly disgusted look on his face and gazes at me instead, his eyes narrowing like they have been every time he's looked at me since I went after Malfoy.

"Hermione, are you ever going to tel-" he starts, shoving shepard's pie into his mouth. I wrinkle my nose when some food falls from his mouth before I interrupt him. And I thought Ron was a messy eater.

"No."

Harry opens his mouth to protest and I shake my head, grabbing my book bag and clambering over the bench I was sitting on. Harry starts to stand up too and furrows his dark eyebrows, only sitting back down when I raise my hand to stop him.

"Finish your supper. I'll see you in the common room, Harry. " I say half-heartedly and give him a wave. Harry stares at Ron and Lavender, then looks back at me before his face smoothes out with something that looks akin to sympathy.

I walk out of the Great Hall and my eyes widen, and I suddenly understand the implications of what Harry just did. Snorting, I stroll down the empty corridor slowly. He didn't really think that I left because of Ron and Lavender, did he? Just because I liked Ron as more than a friend once doesn't mean that I suddenly get upset because he's snogging some other girl.

I roll my eyes and then stop in front of a wall across from the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. I glance around for any late stragglers heading for lunch before squeezing my eyes shut and striding across the stone floor.

 _I need somewhere to study where no one can find me._

I turn on my toes and head across again, my eyes still shut.

 _I need somewhere to study where no one can find me._

Walking the same path once more, I open my eyes to a magnificent oak door.

Slipping inside, I breathe in the smell of burning firewood and old books, and I smile as I look around the room that has appeared to me. The Room of Requirement does not fail me.

The walls seem to be made of book shelves that are packed filled with books, both old and new. The ceiling is somehow partially made of glass and forms an arch with wooden beams. Light filters in from the ceiling, casting a warm feeling through the room. A large window is on the wall across from a rather soft-looking sofa. A rug sits on top of a hardwood floor, a table in the middle of the room, three sofas surrounding it.

I settle myself into the sofa, resisting the urge to cross over to the shelves and dive into the books that lie on the shelf. I instead start on my Charms work, tying my frizzy hair into a loose, messy bun and getting down to writing.

The hours fly by, with a frustrating amount of broken quills and smudged ink. By the time I am done, it is well past curfew and I curse when I see how the magic sky above me is a dark midnight hue. Shoving everything in my bag carelessly, I stand up, ready to make a dash the Gryffindor tower before Filch or his cat can find me.

And then someone bursts into the room.

" _Merlin!_ " I half-gasp, half-shriek. I scramble backwards, and stare at the blond Slytherin who has invaded my room. Malfoy stares right back at me, chest heaving. Curiosity surges its way into me as he glares at me with something that seems just like confusion before it disappears into his normal emotionless face.

"How- how did you get in here, I asked the room to not let anyone in, how…" my voice trails off when Malfoy shoots me one of his snarky looks.

"Well, obviously you did something wrong, Mudblood. But then again you do have some of the filthiest blood this room has probably ever seen. Magic doesn't work for those who don't deserve it." Malfoy sneers at me, and I clench my fist, wishing I was back in my dorm and huddled under my scarlet red blankets. I sneer right back at him, refusing to let him get to me.

"Shut _up_ , Malfoy." I snarl my words, grabbing my wand from the table. "I deserve my magic just as much as you do." He laughs, and it sounds cruel and empty in the silence of the dark room. I shiver slightly and hike my bag up higher on my shoulder.

I remember his sweater, hidden deep in my bag and I shove my bag off my shoulder once more, digging through it with more force than I really need to before I pull out his sweater. I start to walk over to hand it to him but he whips around to the door as if he heard something, and I can't help but think he looks like a startled animal, ready to flee. His eyes are wide and he takes in a breath before casting a glance back at me and slipping out the door.

Once again, I chase after him, my bag just barely closed, it's strap held loosely in my hand and then I am yanked into a dark corner. I scream before a hand claps onto my mouth and my bag lands in front of me with a thud. The smell of expensive cologne and peppermint floods around me and I realize that it's the same scent that lingers on Malfoy's sweater.

"Quiet, Granger." Malfoy hisses, his voice low in the quiet corridor. I want to ask him why, or insist that he let me go but I am distracted by the fact that my back is pressed against the hard muscle of his chest. I am practically curled up on him, my bag flung to the side and I muffle a quiet noise that rises from deep inside of me when his breath dusts lightly against my neck.

I turn slightly, the fabric of his button-down shirt rubbing against my bare arms. His eyes are strange mix of grey and blue in the low light, seeming to glint an impossible silver. For just a moment, he looks down at me and then he freezes. I tense too at the sound of footsteps echoing through the hall.

 _"Oh, please don't let it be Filch."_ I think, squeezing my eyes close while trying to put more distance between me and the boy I am practically sitting on.

Malfoy's hand over my mouth grows heavier against my skin, and he pulls me closer to the wall, his eyes roving over the shadows.

I narrow my eyes in confusion as a couple of Slytherins stride down the hallway. Malfoy couldn't be hiding from them, could he? One of them whispers something to the others and they all split, wandering away from each other. I assume they're searching for Malfoy by the way he stiffens even more. I try to move and grab my bag from the floor but Malfoy grabs my arm with his other hand and holds me back. I still once more and I can feel him shudder when I let out a frustrated sigh into his palm. Placing my hand on the floor to get just slightly away from him sounds like a good idea, but I wince when the cold stone comes intact with my hand and I snatch it back.

After a minute or so, one of the Slytherins lets out a breath and calls out to the others.

"He's not here. If you hadn't been so bloody slow, Nott, maybe we would have found him earlier." The boy, Blaise, I think, rubs his forehead in what seems like annoyance.

The one who called Nott protests indignantly.

"Well, it's not my fault Pans ambushed me and wouldn't give me back my wand until I promised to stop trying to sell her owl to one of the firsties."

Blaise barks out a laugh.

"Remind me why you decided to give her owl away?" His voice fades as his group follows him down the corridor, but Malfoy keeps his grip strong on my arm, and I am surprised by how arm he is. With his pale skin and light hair, he rather looks like the physical version of winter, icy and unforgiving. My traitor body wants to nestle closer to him, the only heat source in this drafty, freezing passageway

Nott's reply can't be heard but a wave of muffled laughter echoes down to us and I can't help but wonder how they haven't been caught by Filch yet.

Malfoy practically shoves me off him once they can no longer be seen or heard and the cold stone under me feels as if it has frozen my very bones. He staggers away from me, stretching out his long legs and looking around cautiously. I somehow find my legs and rise, grabbing my bag from the shadows and slinging it onto my shoulder.

"Why were they looking for you, Malfoy." I ask, and though I instantly regret as the words leave my mouth, I still wait for an answer.

"Granger, this is none of your business, keep your pesky little nose out of it." He says, and I watch as his eyes dart to the Room Of Requirement, his fingers clenching slightly.

"No. First you somehow get into my room, even though I told the room I didn't want anybody to be able to get in, then you pull me into a dusty corner, slap your hand over my mouth, even though I'm a 'filthy mudblood' and then you refuse to let me go. So no, Malfoy, I will not keep my nose out of this." By the time I have finished my rant, my voice has escalated from it's previous whisper, and I am breathing quickly, my hair falling from it's place in my bun.

Malfoy hushes me, glancing around to see if anyone has heard me. "How else was I supposed to keep you quiet, did you think I was touching you on purpose?" his mouth twists in uncovered disgust.

I am practically seething but I don't slap like I very much want to. "You haven't answered my main question, Malfoy." I say quietly, anger resting in a coil at the pit of my stomach, ready to spring if he makes one wrong move.

"Fine, you want to know? They wanted to know something that I can't bloody tell them so they could 'help' me even I don't need it." Malfoy's face is all sharp angles and pale in the faint moonlight that pours in from the window before his lips turn up in a sardonic smile. I wonder why he is actually telling me when he could've just walked away like last time.

I open my mouth to say something in response, but I am cannot find the words, and instead I clench my jaw and grab the end of my sleeve, pulling on it with one of my hands.

He laughs emptily when I don't say anything.

"What Granger, didn't think that Slytherins could be worried about their friends? Or did you think we didn't have friends, that we only have allies and enemies?"

I keep my mouth shut, watching Malfoy with cautious eyes.

He laughs again, and I take a step away from him, my wand held tightly in my hand.

"But I forget, I a- Slytherins are Death Eaters and Death Eaters are evil and emotionless." he hisses the last words, and I gasp because Harry has spent most of the year convincing me that Malfoy is Death Eater and here he is practically telling me he is. My eyes flicker to his arm and I have the urge to grab it and tug his sleeve up, to see if the Dark Mark is there, to see if there is a symbol to show me how much he hates me marring the skin of his arm.

Malfoy watches me, his eyes following the path mine take, and when I look back up at him, his face has gone icily blank. His arm, the one that might just have a Dark Mark, moves slightly behind him as if he thinks that will make me forget about everything. I purse my lips and when our eyes connect once more, I am reminded of that day in the bathroom, where he had been so completely torn apart. Malfoy's eyes look tired in the light from the window, the dark shadows under his eyes imprinted under his eyes and I just want him to act like a normal human being for once, not the sarcastic, hateful pureblood he **always** has to be. But he won't and I know if he ever will, it won't be today.

"Isn't it true, Granger." Malfoy asks, his body relaxed but his eyes hard as he waits for my answer.

I cast a quick look around to check if anything has fallen from my bag before I start to walk away from Malfoy, my shoes clicking on the stone.

"And they call you a Gryffindor. Even a Hufflepuff would have at least answered me." he scoffs behind me and I twist around, marching up to him, every muscle in my body tense with rage.

I let out a heavy breath as my eyes search him. Malfoy crosses his arms and leans against the wall, his blond hair a wispy mess.

"Don't you dare question my bravery, Malfoy, when you have none." My words are forced out through my teeth and then the air is knocked out of me when he pushes me against the wall, his arm pushed over the delicate skin of my throat. I shut my eyes tightly, gasping for air and I imagine the ink from his most-likely there Dark Mark slipping from the smooth skin of his forearm to my throat through his sleeve and tightening, a black band across my neck that strangles me.

"You- you have no idea what the hell I've done, so before you go off and throw your judgements-" I scrunch my face up incredulously and his arm presses further into my throat in response, "in my face, at least try and be that perfect witch that everyone thinks you are."

He releases me and I stumble away from him, massaging my throat as I gulp the cool night air back into my lungs.

"Judgement? Malfoy, maybe it would do you some damn good if you took your own advice." I shake my head in disbelief before picking up my bag once more from where it has fallen to the ground and once again I walk away from him, determined not to slap him tonight.

"Away! Thou' rt poison to my blood."

I hear him mumble under his breath and I walk faster, my hair falling to rest lightly against my face.

" _Foul, little, idiotic, evil piece of dragon dung!"_ I whisper to myself furiously, thanking Merlin that no one else was in the halls to see or hear me.

By the time I have apologized to the Fat Lady for waking her up and entered the common room, my anger has simmered down and the sight of Harry and Ron fast asleep in the armchairs of the common room, clearly waiting for me makes it give way to fond feelings. Ron snores particularly loud and Harry wakes up with a start, sending Ron a nasty look and I stifle a giggle when Harry sees me and jumps again. He looks like he's about to start bombarding me with questions though he's half-asleep so I motion for him to wake up Ron before he does. Harry looks back at Ron with narrowed eyes and sends a stinging hex his way. Ron wakes with a snort and when his eyes land on me, he smiles and gives me a sleepy wave bfore collapsing back into his armchair ans falling asleep. Harry blinks and slaps his palm to his forehead and I just shake my head and laugh.

I help Harry get Ron upstairs , promising to explain in the morning and give them one last goodnight before I go into my dorm room, careful to make sure that none of the other girls wake up. I don't bother to change into my sleep things, instead collapsing into my bed with my bag, practically sinking into the soft blankets. Banishing all thoughts of a certain Slytherin from my mind, just as I sink into sleep, my hand brushes over Malfoy's sweater. I groan internally and shove my face into my pillow.

Minutes later, as I manage to fall into the dreaminess of sleep again, the sun starting to peek over the horizon, I realise something very strange.

Draco Malfoy just quoted Shakespeare. A _**muggle** _ poet.

I give up trying to sort through the confused thoughts that filter into my mind at the realization and promise myself that everything will make sense tomorrow when I could actually think straight.

It was _way_ too early in the morning for this.

* * *

 **That was a strange ending, ha.**

 **As you can probably tell by now, MY DOC MANAGER ACTUALLY WORKED,YAY! *dances around room happily***

 **Sorry about being so late with the chapter, but I hope you like it!**

 **Love, Annemarie**


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